The Picture Collection
by Blue-Starlight92
Summary: A series of oneshots: stories behind the pictures that John's mother would have around the house. John's back story based on my headcanons. Because he didn't just poof into being at nineteen; he did have a childhood.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: My headcanons for John are born from a frustration at the lack of backstory for pretty much all of the characters in Ghost Hunt, particurally John, since he's my favorite character. So I started creating headcanons for his family, where he lived, what he was like in school, who his friends were; the whole nine yards. After a bit of research into the Catholic priesthood (just surface stuff, I don't know everything) I realized that there's actually a lot of schooling involved, and that men aren't ordained until they're 25, normally, but exceptions can be made. I figured that, if John was ordained by the time he's 18-19, then he would have had to graduate high school early to get all that done so fast. So he must be a genius. That's really the basis for a lot of his behavior in these oneshots, that he's a genius who graduated high school by the time he's thirteen years old. I'll explain a little bit more about his schooling once the particular oneshot needs it, but I don't want to make this note very long. As for his family and where he lives, I felt like putting him on a ranch, near a small town. He has a large family, three older brothers, one older sister, and a younger sister. His oldest brother, Matthew, is quite a few years older (in his teens by the time John was born) Mark and Sarah (twins) are just a few years younger than Matthew, and so are in junior high when John came along, Luke is about six years older than John (Matthew, Mark, Luke, John... see what I did there?) and Rachel is two years younger. That's all you need to know for this one! I hope you enjoy these!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own John, or Ghost Hunt. I do, however, own the rest of the characters in these oneshots. **

**I'd also like to give a thank you to thebookhobbit, who has given me a TON of help with these. (She's my beta!)**

* * *

Picture: A two or three year old John, dressed in shorts, a t-shirt, and tennis shoes, sitting on Matthew's shoulders (Matthew is in his late teens) staring up at fireworks. They're in the middle of a crowd in a park in Sydney- a festival type thing. Matthew is looking at the camera with a laughing 'look at John's face' expression.

* * *

They had told him that the fireworks would make a lot of noise, and not to be scared. He knew they were worried about taking him; Mom had to put him to bed long before a storm started, or he would wake the whole house with his crying. But Sarah had told him that fireworks were pretty, not scary like the lightening, and that the noises they made weren't as bad as thunder was, and he believed her.

Matthew let him sit on his shoulders, since Dad had broken his arm in a rodeo and John wouldn't be able to see otherwise. John had learned how to stay really still and balance just like on Tractor, the family pony, and so Matthew really had nothing to complain about. Besides, John liked being around Matthew. Sure, he didn't play trains, or draw, or read books, or ride around on Tractor with him like Luke did - he was too busy with theatre - but every once in a while, when Luke had stuff to do (John didn't know what) and both his parents were busy, Matthew (well, Mark and Sarah too, but Matthew was the one who offered) would bring him to theatre rehearsals. Those were fun! He would get to sit with Sister Karla, who would coo over him like Mom's friends did, only with her it wasn't quite as uncomfortable and weird, and she would let him push the buttons on the CD player to start and stop the music. Yeah, John liked Matthew.

Sarah warned him when the fireworks were going to start. They were so pretty! Yeah, they were really loud, but Sarah was right, they weren't as loud as the thunder. And all the colors! They were so bright and colorful! He could see mom taking pictures out of the corner of his eye, but for once he was way more interested in the fireworks than anything else. He could only stare wide-eyed up in the sky, totally in awe. When the finale started, he almost fell off Matthew's shoulders in surprise, but quickly turned back to staring open mouthed as one went off right after the other.

He fell asleep almost instantly once they got in the car, mumbling a 'thank you' and drifting off before they could ask him any more questions.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I think I explained everything that needs to be explained in the last author's note, so if you skipped that one, you might need to go back and read it. **

**I did a two-week gap from the last chapter, but I think I'm going to start updating on a weekly basis!**

**Once again, thank you so much to thebookhobbit. I wouldn't have even considered publishing these without her!**

* * *

John's mom has a picture of him, about two or three years old, in (what appears to be as far as anyone can tell) overalls, mud boots, and a t-shirt, sitting in a mud puddle (a freaking giant mud puddle) completely covered in it. He honestly looks like he's gone diving in it, pretty much all you can see are his eyes and outlines of where his nose, hair, mouth, etc. are. He's holding up a key that he's managed to get the mud off of, with a look like "well… I found it."

He knew that Sarah had lost her house key in the pasture yesterday, and he thought he'd seen it, before he'd heard that she lost it, but by the time he'd been told, it had started raining. He knew there had been a thunderstorm last night; Mom had put him to bed early, with warm milk to actually get him to sleep, since he'd started making it known when he didn't want to go to bed. It wasn't his fault; he could tell when it was way too early! The fact that she was doing it so he wouldn't be scared later was beside the point.

He'd fed the chickens and collected the eggs, just like he always did. Dad didn't trust him with the other animals yet; he said the feed buckets were too heavy still, and that feeding the chickens would be enough for now. But Matthew let him feed Sugar, their little miniature horse that would sometimes let John ride her, when Dad wasn't around.

Afterward, he'd found the spot easily, he never forgot where stuff was. It wasn't at the top, but then again, the patch of weeds that had been there before wasn't at the top anymore either, so he had to go searching for it. He stepped further into the mud puddle and sunk a little. He panicked at first, he had no idea how deep it was, but relaxed when he felt ground. "Stop doing that, it isn't good for your blood pressure." He told himself as he bent over to start feeling around as best he could. He still couldn't feel anything, so he waded in a little further… and further… and further. Eventually he found the weeds, and threw them to the side; at that point he was at least waist deep in mud, and his entire front was completely covered in it. He knelt down in it, feeling around, and could tell that he would need to go a little farther. He tested, to be sure, how fast he could get up, in case he ran out of air, and then took a deep breath, plugged his nose, and went under. He felt around, and finally his hand closed over something hard… thin… and key shaped! He tightened his grip even more, and stood up, wiping the mud off his eyes. Now, he just had to get out of the mud puddle. He pulled himself to sit on the ground, and managed to shimmy backwards, pulling his feet up until he got them up out of the mud without losing his mud boots: they were new, and Mom would be mad if he lost them.

"John Joseph Brown! What in the world are you doing?!" He heard a screech in front of him, and looked up.

Mom, wearing a dress that made it easy on her belly - she told him that he would be a big brother soon - with a camera around her neck, was standing in front of him, looking down with an expression on her face that said he'd better have a very good explanation for all this.

He wiped off the key as best he could and held it up to her. "I found it!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: I think that everything is pretty explained through exposition for this oneshot. I'm doing pretty good with that, so far! I was expecting to have to do a lot more explaining. If you haven't read the authors note in the first chapter (though if you made it this far without questions then you're either amazing at inferencing or just really good at mind reading) then that should explain everything. **

**Once again, I wouldn't have published these if it weren't for thebookhobbit! She is an amazing and wonderful beta (and just an awesome person in general!)**

* * *

Picture: A two year old John, on the beach, wearing shorts, a t-shirt, sandals… and a life jacket. He's completely dry, except for the hem of his shorts, and has clearly not gone in the water enough to need a life jacket, but he's buckled in securely. He's just carrying around a little plastic bucket, presumably picking up shells.

* * *

As of right now - although his mom said he'd be a big brother soon - John was the youngest of the Brown family, by quite a lot. Luke was eight, and the cousin that was oldest after John was seven, and as a result, John usually didn't have anyone to play with at family reunions. If they were at the house, or at his aunts' or uncles' houses where there were parks nearby that the kids could walk to, then Sarah or Luke would push him on the swing for a little bit, but he was really pretty good at amusing himself for quite a long time, especially when it came to beaches or lakes, or even swimming pools, where he would not let anyone drag him into the water. The last time Luke had tried, he'd clung to Grandma Rose and screamed bloody murder until Luke let go. It worked every time.

Grandma Rose had suggested that he go collect shells so she could make something for the new baby, and so off John went, toddling along the beach picking up any that caught his eye. He'd have to be quick about it near the water, otherwise the waves would come up and wash it away. He got a little wet, too, but nothing more than a little above his knees. But it was Australia, the water was always nice, so he wasn't complaining.

"John?" He turned around and looked up at his Aunt Caroline, who'd just walked over, holding her sunhat on her head so the wind wouldn't blow it away. "Don't you want to go in the water?" She knelt down and asked.

"No ma'am," He shook his head "I can't swim."

"But you have your life jacket on," She pointed out.

"Because there might be riptide," He said. "Riptides happen on shore and drag everything caught in it out to sea. I read it in one of Grandma Mildred's books. If I'm not wearing my life jacket, I could drown."

"I don't think there'll be a riptide, do you?" She said.

John shrugged, "Grandma's book said it was really hard to tell. And Mom always tells me to be safe."

"Well… okay," She sighed, and stood up, walking back to the rest of the adults.

John went back to looking for seashells, now watching the tide carefully. He really didn't want to get dragged out to sea… he'd read that sharks couldn't see very well, and might mistake his legs for fish.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I'm sorry for skipping a week! I flew back home (I'm down in Galveston for college at the moment) last weekend, and so I had to get a lot of stuff done Wednesday, and I just plain forgot about it! On the plus side, AnimeFest was good! I promise I'll have the next installment written in time for next week! And I think I've explained everything well enough in this one that I don't need to write a super long author's note. So... enjoy!**

* * *

Picture: John in a school uniform (navy shorts, white shirts, pretty standard) standing in front of a "St. Joseph's Catholic School" sign. He's smiling, but it's more of an awkward and nervous "oh my goodness I am going to die" smile.

* * *

John's mother had told him not to be nervous. All four of his older siblings had survived their first day at kindergarten and he would too. Mark, on the other hand, had told him that if he didn't watch himself, then someone would beat him up because he was too smart for his own good. Luke had told him not to believe anything that Mark said about school, ever; but he had also said that he didn't want to see his baby brother be the "lonely weirdo over in the corner" and that he needed to find at least one person.

"Just one person, John. That's your mission; just one per-"

"Luke, will you button your shirt properly, we're almost there!" their mother had cut him off, leaving Luke grumbling about how hot the school uniforms were. John didn't think they were very hot at all, just that Luke had an inability to wear a button up shirt the right way.

Once they got to the school building (which was about two feet from the church, so at least John had seen it before) his mom took a quick picture of him in front of the school sign, like she'd done for his siblings. John stuck close to her, clinging to her blouse, as they walked into the building. He didn't want to go; he just knew he was going to be bad at making friends, he just knew it! And then he would be the lonely weirdo in the corner who answered all of the teacher's questions too quickly and then people would beat him up after school because he was so small. All the other kids were towering over him like basketball athletes… oh, wait, those were second graders, no wonder.

"John, this is your room, don't forget the big 'kindergarten' sign over it, okay?" His mom was trying to pass him off to the nun standing at the door, but he only clung tighter to her shirt, hiding behind her. "John, come on, it's almost time for class."

John didn't want to let go, he would be perfectly content staying behind his mom all day, and he clung to her blouse even tighter.

"John, you just need to forget about what Mark said, go in there, and meet a few kids, alright?" And with that, she pried his hands off the hem of her shirt.

"John" he turned toward the new person, the nun at the door. She was older than his mom, and had a nice smile like his grandma. "I already have a seat at a table marked for you, and there's a girl sitting next to it that doesn't have any friends. Do you want to come meet her?"

That didn't sound so bad… if she didn't have any friends, maybe she wouldn't laugh at him for being small and answering the teachers questions too fast. And if they were sitting together, then they had to talk sometime, right?

He nodded, and took the hand she offered.

"Bye, John. Have a good first day!" his mom sounded almost relieved.

"Yes, ma'am!" he nodded.

The nun had him hang up his backpack on one of the coat hangers by the door, which were labeled with everyone's name, and then showed him which table was his. It was halfway between the window and a cork board that was decorated in bright colors, and had the days of the week and a calendar on it, as well as space for more things. His spot at the table was marked, again, with a name tag, and there was a girl sitting alone in the chair next to it.

"Evelyn, this is John. He's going to be sitting next to you, okay?"

"Okay!" Evelyn spoke with a thick accent. John thought he remembered his mom and a friend of hers talking about someone adopting a girl from Japan. The… Conners? He looked at the name tag by her seat. Yup, he was right. "Hi, I'm Evelyn." She held out her hand.

"I'm John" he took it gently. "My mom said you just moved here?"

"Yes!" she smiled brightly, and kept talking as they sat back down. Her accent was thick, but John could understand her just fine, and he realized that kindergarten might not be so bad.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Ack! Sorry, I didn't get this finished until Tuesday night, and so it didn't get sent to thebookhobbit until it was a little late. I WILL get these done on time, I promise! If you've read the last oneshot, you should be fine for this one. **

**Once again, thank you to thebookhobbit!**

* * *

Picture: John and Evelyn are fast asleep on the front porch swing (the usual kind, that look like benches only they're swings) still in their school uniforms; leaning on each other with books in their laps.

* * *

It was fall in Australia (which meant nicer weather than what they'd been having) and it was a beautiful day outside. It had been a pretty hot summer season, and everyone was rather happy about the cooler weather. Especially John, whose bedroom was in what had been the attic, and even with proper insulation, and making it into a normal bedroom, the air conditioner couldn't seem to cool things down in there as well as it could in the rest of the house. On the hottest nights, his parents had let him sleep in their room: for fear that he'd get sick again. And he really didn't want to miss any more school, he'd been sick enough already.

It was nearing the end of the school year, and John's kindergarten class had a book report to finish. Most of the class was on the same reading level, able to get through small chapter books on their own, for the most part; save for two people in the class: Evelyn, who, while speaking English pretty well, was still having trouble reading big chunks of it without help; and John, who was reading the same books as his older brother, Luke (who was in sixth grade) at a ridiculously fast pace (and begging his mom to let him have something a little more challenging to read.)

John and Evelyn had become good friends. Best friends, actually, since even though a whole school year had nearly gone by, they were still each other's ONLY friends. It worked out pretty well, really: John tried his best to teach her how to read better, and Evelyn, in turn, helped him get any kind of art work he had to do looking a little bit less like a three year old did it. John was having a little more success teaching Evelyn than Evelyn was teaching John, however.

And so, since the weather was cooler and Evelyn's parents were still at work, the afternoon found them on the swing on John's front porch. John had finished his book already, and he was helping Evelyn get through hers. Even though they still had the summer ahead of them, they couldn't help but feel that they were running out of time. About a month after school had started, his teacher had called a parent-teacher conference with his mom. And then they had started talking with Father Isaac's, a priest involved with the elementary, middle, and high school, and a friend of the family. Shortly after, John had had to take several tests, and had just finished taking them for a second time. Father Isaacs had gotten the results already, and the school had made the decision to move him up a few grades next year; he'd be jumping from kindergarten to third grade.

So they sat there, not even trying to get the porch swing to rock, and John helped Evelyn finish Peter Rabbit, and promised to help her whenever she needed it, no matter what grade he ended up in. They sat there for a little while, John making sure she knew what to put in her book report, when the warmth of the sun, and the gentle rocking as the swing was pushed ever so slightly by the breeze got to the two of them, and they fell asleep, leaning against each other.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: I actually got this one done on time! Yay! I don't think that this one really needs a headcanon update: just be sure to read the last two chapters, and everything'll be fine.**

**Once again, thank you so much to thebookhobbit! She's a super awesome beta!**

* * *

Picture: Labeled as the "Sixth Grade Class" a group of about thirty kids, all in uniforms, with two nuns standing on either side. John is in the front, and is so much shorter and younger looking, since he's only seven, that it's a little comical.

* * *

John sighed as he got up to go stand in line. Class picture day… there was no question where he'd be standing – even the next shortest kid was at least a head taller than he was. But the two sixth grade classes were combining, so for now they were in alphabetical order, as always.

John had been in the third grade the past school year, but, as per what John was scared was becoming the usual, he had taken another series of tests a few months into the year, and then another several months later, and after his mother had talked with Father Isaacs – a conversation that he still wasn't present for- they had told him that he'd be going into the sixth grade. The sixth grade… when Evelyn was back in the second grade.

They'd only seen each other in passing during school; in the halls sometimes, or from across the cafeteria during lunch, and John wasn't ashamed to admit that he was pretty miserable without her. Sure, John's mom still picked the two of them up after school, and so there were a few hours before Evelyn's mom got off of work that they could see each other, and of course there were always the weekends, but Evelyn was the reason that John had really liked kindergarten… and she was still his only friend. He wasn't good at making friends… there had been one or two people in third grade, and now in sixth grade, that were nice to him (or at least they didn't make fun of him) but most of the other kids seemed to be irritated by the fact that a seven year old was in their class… and that he was getting better scores than they were. Or if they weren't irritated, then they were indifferent, and he avoided talking to them if he could help it.

John winced as the girl behind him in line stepped on his heel, and fortunately she noticed him this time:

"John, I'm sorry!" she apologized quickly. "I guess I'm just half awake and I…" she trailed off, but John knew what she meant.

"You didn't see me, I know. It's fine, don't worry about it." He didn't want to make her feel bad about it, she was one of the tallest girls in the school, and he was one of the shortest, so it only made sense that she'd step on him if she wasn't paying attention. That was the issue with lines.

They'd set up risers in the cafeteria, as usual, and once they were all there, the nuns started pulling the tallest children out of line, motioning them to go stand on the top level of the risers.

"John!" he heard his teacher call out sharply. John startled quickly before he realized that she wasn't yelling at him - there were about three John's in his class, himself included. "It doesn't matter who's taller! Just stand on the riser where there's room!"

John sighed to himself, this could take a while. At least they had a light day today; if there had been any tests, he would have been a little frustrated. He'd tried to make at least a semblance of a friend in this class, since he'd see them again at least for another year, though if what he'd heard under the door of Father Isaac's office during another post-test chat with his mom was anything to go by, he'd be in eighth grade next year. But he'd probably see them in the halls; and they had several math options for seventh graders, though John figured they'd put him in purely eighth grade classes, if their excited tones were anything to go by. Why wasn't he included in these talks again? They couldn't logically think that he wouldn't get what they were talking about; he wouldn't be in sixth grade right now if they thought that. The only logical thing that John could think of was that adults seemed to have it wired in their brains that they needed to talk down to children; and therefore John couldn't possibly make a rational input about whether he wanted to go into eighth grade next year because they were the adults and they knew what was best for him. John sure did hope that God really did have a reason that all of this was going on… he didn't get why it would be happening otherwise.

"John" this time his teacher's tone was much gentler, and she was actually talking to him. "Deep in thought again? Come on, we're almost ready."

John hurried to take his place, and his teacher smoothed the front of his shirt for him. He liked his teacher; she was very aware that she had a seven year old boy in her class, and that he was different socially from the others… which meant that any group work was done with the two kids that were nice to him, and that his group stayed that way, even when the other's changed.

"Alright, stand up straight, give me a smile… there! Your mom will be happy with that" she grinned, and stood in her place next to him.

The photographer took about three pictures (John was certain he had eye damage, and was determined to look it up as soon as he got home) and then everyone scrambled to get back into their lines, and back to a normal day.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Another on time one! For once I'm not sending this to thebookhobbit late Tuesday, or during the day Wednesday! This one needs kind of a long one, and I debated doing this one right now, but at the same time I thought that it might lead to a "wait, who is this guy?! And what's all this about theatre?!" for the next chapter. **

**In my headcanon, John's entire family (well, siblings...) have been in the theatre program at the high school (John is a freshman at nine, and this takes place when he's a junior at eleven) and so John is as well. It's partially through theatre, and partially through being the lonely nine year old eating lunch by himself, that he met Alex (and several others who I'll get to in the next chapter) who became his best friend. Originally, I wasn't going to put Alex in this series at all, and wait for my next headcanon series, which I've already almost finished, to introduce him. But then I was at a loss for prompts, and thebookhobbit suggested that I be sure to put in some more monumental ones, like high school graduation. So I figured that Alex, at least, would definitely be in that; and then when I thought of this one, I figured that I should introduce him through this, so that everyone had a little bit of an idea of his character.**

**I hope you like it! Once again, thank you so much to thebookhobbit, without who this series would not have been published, and I would still punctuate like a freshman failing their English class. (Okay, maybe not quite THAT bad since I've never actually been a freshman failing my English class... but I was pretty bad before she got a hold of me!)**

* * *

Picture: Alex is holding John in a chair near the stage, cramming a "happy birthday" hat shaped like a cake on his head. John looks like he can't decide if he should be surprised or unhappy or terrified. It's John's 11th birthday.

* * *

Alex had set it up ahead of time, it really was unfair that John had to be at an all-day rehearsal on his birthday (well, everyone had to be there, but it was John's _birthday_) especially when they were supposed to still be in the middle of a school holiday. He knew Sister Karla's reasoning, they _were_ taking this musical to competition (like everything else in this school – were all Catholic school's this competitive, or was it just theirs?) and breaks were the perfect time to have productive, all-day, rehearsals; but he also knew that she had a soft spot for John – nearly everyone in the theatre department did. So the motherly nun had agreed to hold a birthday celebration during lunch, and to hold John back a few minutes so they could get set up… she did need to get him measured for a costume, after all. (And, according to her, even though he was in the middle of a growth spurt, she didn't know if she had any boys costumes small enough that were what she was looking for.)

Alex had managed to spread the word around, with an assurance that if they let John find out he would beat them over the head with a chair (which he was joking about, but everyone got the message) and by the time John's birthday rolled around, everyone was in high spirits. John's parents (even his father who usually barely left the ranch) both his sisters, and two of his brothers (Mark wasn't anywhere to be found, apparently) waited until Sister Karla had John safely back in her office.

"I baked this just this morning!" John's mother had brought a cake for everyone; it was a nice looking cake, decorated simply, big enough for everyone, and the seasoned theatre kids knew that Mrs. Brown's cooking was always good.

"And I didn't drop it on the way here!" Luke grinned, which got a laugh out of everyone.

Several of the girls were helping Mrs. Brown and Sarah, John's older sister, get the table that Mr. Brown and Matthew had set up all set. Alex found a chair and put it on the edge of the stage, and John's little sister, Rachel, climbed up on stage and trotted over to him.

"Hey, little bit, whatcha doing?" Alex ruffled her hair. Rachel was a good kid, and to be honest, looked like the spitting image of John on estrogen (same blonde hair and blue eyes, same small size and same brains: John was reading Shakespear with her before bed) but a good deal more outgoing than her older brother.

"Make him wear it!" she laughed and held out a rather ridiculous looking hat: shaped like a birthday cake with "happy birthday" written on the side.

"It's a tradition!" Sarah had been watching them, and called out helpfully.

Rachel nodded: "Whoever's birthday it is has to wear the hat during their birthday dinner. In this case, we're in public and John looks RIDICULOUS in it!" She giggled and walked over to the edge of the stage to climb onto her father's shoulders.

Alex just laughed, and walked over to the stage door; he'd have to grab John if he didn't want him running off… John was all for celebrating holidays or doing musicals, or plays, or whatever in public… except for his birthday. Mainly because his siblings seemed to have taken it as a personal challenge to see who could embarrass each other the most.

"John, costuming is my problem, you don't need to worry about a thing" Alex heard Sister Karla talking before they got to the stage door.

"But I-" John cut himself off as Sister Karla ushered him through the open door, and he got a good look at the scene just past the stage. Alex had time to see his expression change to a mixture of "what on earth is going on" and then "oh dear… no…" as it registered.

Unfortunately for John, that was when Alex grabbed him.

"You planned this, didn't you?" John was trying to get out of his grip.

"It's your own fault for having your birthday during an all-day rehearsal." Alex replied with a grin.

John was so busy pointing out all the logical fallacies in the sentence, that he almost forgot about exactly what was going on around him… until Alex sat him down in the chair that he'd put at the edge of the stage, and had crammed the cake hat on his head.

And when John's mom, Sister Karla, and one of the girls who was on the school newspaper started taking pictures as the rest of the cast sang "happy birthday" Alex found himself very, very, glad that John was his best friend… anyone else would have beaten him up already.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note: Sorry for this being late again! School is getting verrrrry busy for both me and thebookhobbit! I don't think this needs much of an explanation, since I've already introduced all the major people in it, but if you've got any questions, just ask and I'll revise this to answer it!**

**Thanks, once again, to thebookhobbit!**

* * *

Three pictures: John giving his valedictorian speech, walking across the stage, and afterward with him and Alex, Alex has his hand on John's head and his cap has fallen in front of his face. John is thirteen.

* * *

John had never felt so nervous to be on a stage before; after four years of theatre, he was more than comfortable with it. But this time was very, very, different: even though they only had a graduating class of 100, it felt like the auditorium had never been fuller, and everyone, including the school officials and the other nine students that made up the top ten (and top ten percent) that were on stage with him, were all staring at him, waiting for him to say the first word of his valedictorian speech. Because he'd done it. He'd done what a lot of the members of the church, and even some members of his own family, said that he wouldn't be able to do: he was graduating first in his class.

He'd stayed up far past what was healthy for several nights in a row working on the speech. And re-working it. And re-working it again. And again. Father Isaacs had heard it several times, as had Sister Karla, and his English teacher. His poor parents had heard it more times than he cared to count. He knew that half the people in the audience wouldn't remember what he'd said by the time a few days had gone by, and the other large percentage would forget in about twenty minutes; but he knew that several people, at least, would be listening. And that was what mattered.

It went off without a hitch; his voice didn't even crack, which was a minor miracle in itself. He'd sat down afterward, and his friend Megan (who'd also been theatre club president) stood up to give the salutatorian speech, which, fortunately, also went well. So far everything was going along nicely… but they still had to walk.

The school had had the same order for walking across the stage ever since the first graduating class: the top ten students first, by rank, and then the rest of the seniors went alphabetically by last name. John's mom had hemmed his graduation robes so that he wouldn't trip over them (that was another thing they had tested over and over again) and so the only thing that could possibly go wrong is if Megan rushed through, and somehow stepped on the end while they were walking off stage. But John also knew that Megan was Megan and that her rushing across the stage was something that she just couldn't do.

The ten of them walked off stage so that they could get properly set up, and the seniors in the first few rows of seats lined up behind them. John could feel his heart pounding, and he didn't know if he should be fighting the urge to laugh or faint, and he was a little relieved that he'd been too nervous to eat lunch or there might be a problem.

"John, calm down!" There was enough noise around them that no one outside of their immediate vicinity could hear Megan laugh as she grabbed his shoulders, pulling him back in a hug. "Your face is turning white again."

"I know." John let her hug him tightly, but could feel himself turning red all the same.

"And now you need to get that blush under control," she giggled, and let him go.

And then everything just… went quiet. Dead quiet, not even a baby crying, or anyone creaking in their chairs. Father Isaacs motioned for everyone in line to move up a little, so that John was at the top of the stairs leading up to the stage. He patted John's shoulder comfortingly, and John could hear the blood rushing in his head, and his heart pounding, and somehow over all of that…

"John Brown."

And he was walking. He kept his speed normal, and then someone he didn't know except for the fact that they were very important to the school board was shaking his hand and handing him his diploma, and then he kept walking, across the rest of the stage, as quietly as he could down the steps on the other side, and Sister Karla was waiting for him at the bottom of the steps with tears in her eyes, hugging him tightly and kissing his cheek, and then motioning where he, and the rest of the "top ten" were supposed to sit.

He sank into the chair without a sound, and his whole body relaxed. He'd… he'd just… it was over. He opened the bound portfolio that he'd been handed, and looked down at it. He'd graduated. At the top of his class. And even though he was watching the rest of the graduating class go across the stage, he could only pray the same silent prayer of thanks over and over and over again.

After the ceremony, he and Alex found each other immediately, crashing together in a hug, that somehow resulted in Alex lifting him off the ground as he spun around in a circle.

"You did it!" Alex finally managed.

"YOU did it!" John returned, laughing.

"Hey, boys!" Alex put him down as the two were joined by their families.

John's mom was crying, hugging him as tightly as she could, and then started laughing when John looked up at her worriedly:

"M'am, what's wrong, what's going on?"

"Just your old mom being emotional again" she laughed kissing his forehead as he protested the statement with:

"You're not old!"

And the rest of his family hugged him; Sarah wasn't crying, but she did have tears in her eyes, Luke messed with his hat and hugged him, and even his father, when John had started to shake his hand, pulled him into a hug, whispering, his voice a little choked up, in his ear:

"I'm proud of you, boy."

And then it was Evelyn's turn. John hugged her tight, and didn't want to let go. Evelyn had just finished seventh grade. Seventh grade… John hadn't even been in seventh grade. That was strange to think about, that if it weren't for… everything… John would still be in seventh grade. And then they let go when John's mom wanted to take a picture of him and Alex.

They took a normal picture… and then Alex put his arm on top of his head, like he always did, but this time John started flailing in surprise when the world went dark as his cap fell down in front of his eyes… and mentally groaned as he heard everyone laughing as his mom's camera clicked again.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Yay! I got it done on time for once! Actually, this one has been done for the past few weeks, and that's why... Anyway, I don't think this needs any headcanon explanation, but just as a side note, John's brother's are in their twenties at this point...**

**Thanks again to thebookhobbit!**

* * *

Picture: John, fourteen, with his knee's to his chest, wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper, covered from the neck down, and a bow on his head. He looks so unhappy that it's comical.

* * *

Teresa Brown sighed as she heard, yet again, the sounds of running feet upstairs. It was her private policy that a little bit of wrestling in the house was fine, especially with her three oldest, since heaven knew they weren't about to just sit there quietly, as long as nothing got broken, or there weren't any injuries. Save for an incident when Matthew and Mark were nine and seven with a broken vase and a cut hand, she hadn't had any problems, and she was used to the sounds that were made from horsing around upstairs.

She listened closer, however, when she could hear a voice that she usually didn't when these things happened:

"Luke, get off me!

"Come on, John, it'll be funny!"

"No! Come on, I'm trying to read- GAH!"

"You read a book a day, relax!" That was Mark, who she usually heard with Luke, but not with John.

There was the sound of ripping paper and then "come on, just let me go!"

"This wouldn't take so long if you'd just stop thrashing!"

"Good grief, your horse puts up less of a fuss when it's time for wormer!"

"This is stupid, just let me go!"

She walked to the foot of the stairs. "What are you boys doing up there?!"

"NOTHING MA'AM!" Luke and Mark both called back down.

John, however, was clearly trying to say something, but was muffled in some way. Teresa rolled her eyes and started up the stairs: if they were trying to keep John quiet, then someone was definitely up to no good.

"OUCH! Dangit, John, what are you, five?!"

"You're the one with the stupid idea- get that off me!"

She stepped into the hallway, and had to stop for a moment to process everything. Luke was examining his hand where there was a pretty good bite mark on it, and Mark was kneeling next to John with the tape dispenser in his hand, and there was a roll of Christmas wrapping paper on the floor.

And John… she could see where they'd tied him with something to keep him from moving his knees, which were tucked to his chest, and hands, and he was covered from the neck down in wrapping paper, complete with a bow on his head, and he looked so, so, unhappy and irritated that she couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Ma'am!" it was the closest John got to whining.

"We were going to sneak him under the Christmas tree!" Luke was clearly hoping she wasn't about to yell at them for wasting wrapping paper.

"You wouldn't miss him for a week, right?" Mark wasn't as good at it.

John was clearly hoping that she'd at least get all the wrapping paper off of him and let him get back to reading.

"You two, untie him and get all the paper in the garbage." She paused, and her stern mother face turned into a smile; "after I get my camera."


	10. Chapter 10

**Authors note: Maybe I can make a habit of doing these on time for once! There's actually only two more of these left, which was two more than I planned on, but then I got more ideas. I'll save the "I hope you liked these" note for the last one, though. But, I hope you like this one!**

**Thanks, once again, to thebookhobbit!**

* * *

Picture: John sitting on a stool in their front yard, with a 'why me' expression on his face, the infamous 'happy birthday' hat in the shape of a cake crammed on his head. Matthew is on a unicycle, with his bagpipes, clearly playing while riding around him in circles. It's his sixteenth birthday.

* * *

His mother had invited pretty much everyone he considered his friends and he didn't know why… granted, the number of people that he considered his friends (or even talked to, really) was shockingly low compared to most boys his age. John was all for birthday celebrations, even parties… unless it was his own birthday, and then he wanted it to be kept quiet as possible. Dinner at home with his family, and Alex and Evelyn too… maybe, if they weren't busy. But if they had homework then they should do that.

"John, it's your own birthday party, you should at least look like you're excited!" Alex had his hands on John's shoulders, steering him around the yard and making sure that he greeted and spoke with everyone.

"And I'm happy that everyone's here… really… it's just that this seems too public."

"John, we're in your front yard."

"The cows haven't been in the back pasture in a while…"

"John, your house is almost thirty minutes from town."

"…" John sighed; he couldn't refute that.

One thing that he could make a comment on, however, was that he had every right to not like his own birthday parties when his siblings seemed to have made it their goal in life to embarrass him in as many public situations as possible. He voiced this to Alex, who, of course, had a response:

"Hey, siblings doing that to each other is normal."

"You're an only child!"

"I've got ten cousins."

Eh, point. And then John spotted the crown jewel of his argument. "But most siblings aren't THAT."

He pointed, subtly, at his oldest brother, Matthew, who had made the drive from Sydney, and was calmly talking with Sister Karla and Father Issacs, which was in itself normal. What _wasn't_ normal however, was the kilt he was wearing.

"… good luck with that." Alex patted his shoulder consolingly.

John braced himself for the worst. If Matthew was wearing his kilt, that never meant anything good, and was usually a prelude to something _extremely_ embarrassing. For John, anyway. Matthew never got embarrassed by anything. Ever.

It went well, and John was starting to hope that the kilt was just something to throw him off… up until his mom brought out the birthday cake. And Luke brought out a stool from the kitchen, and the infamous cake birthday hat that had been such a long tradition. The hat was starting to look a bit battered, but John knew there was no hope that his mom would retire it anytime soon.

"Okay, John, come on!" Luke crammed the hat on his head as John walked over, blushing bright red from both the heat and the constant 'why, why did mom have to invite everyone?!' running through his head. He clambered up onto the stool, and hoped that this wouldn't be too bad.

It was in that moment, then, that John realized that Matthew was nowhere to be found… which was bad. Very, very, bad. And that was when he heard them… the very thing that the kilt was a prelude for, and what John had foolishly hoped that Matthew had stopped playing years ago… the pipes. The "brrrrraaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrrrrrrr" sound of him first breathing air to fill up the bag, and Matthew was only getting closer from the sound of it.

Most of the group assembled in front of him started to laugh wildly, and John turned his head in the direction they were looking. His eyes widened as he took in the sight and realized that _nothing_ could have prepared him for this:

Matthew was indeed playing the pipes, in his kilt… but he was also riding a unicycle. He rode calmly toward John, and switched to playing the "happy birthday" song as he got closer.

John knew he was blushing up to his ears as Matthew rode in circles around him, with everyone laughing at how utterly ridiculous this all was. John knew that there was nothing he could do but wait it out and hope that everyone would forget about this in a year.

From the way that his mom was taking pictures… that wasn't likely.

Why did turning sixteen have to be a big deal, again?!


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's note: Second to the last one! And thebookhobbit was awesome and got this beta'd this afternoon, but I've been studying and so this is my first chance to post it. **

**Just a re-cap from a previous authors note (or have I said this at all) Simon Brown is John's father, and Teresa is his mom's first name. This is from his father's point of view (well, third person limited) so I refer to them both like that.**

**Hope you enjoy! Thanks, once again, to** **thebookhobbit! **

* * *

Picture: John and Luke are at the piano (small upright, nothing fancy) laughing while they're playing a duet. (John is seventeen.)

* * *

"John, you're at least half a beat faster than I am!"

"I can't help it, my fingers remember it up tempo!"

"Well, forgive me, I haven't played this in years!" Luke shot back.

Simon Brown smiled a bit at the last comment, watching his two youngest boys from the rocking chair in the living room. Christmas this year was going to be interesting… his three oldest were married, and so finding room for everyone was going to be a game of it, but at least they weren't coming in for a few days now. John, Luke, and Rachel were all still in college though (Luke had surprised the whole family by making it into graduate school) and with no jobs among them, they'd been home for a week already.

It was a comforting feeling, having the three of them home, and the house wasn't quite as quiet. Not that he minded a little peace, but he'd come to the surprising conclusion that he did enjoy a bit of noise here and there. He could hear Rachel and Teresa in the kitchen, and John and Luke were back to playing the piano.

He didn't remember the name of it (music was Teresa's, and therefore the kids', forte, not his) but he knew, from the many, many, hours of practice years earlier, that it was difficult and it was quite an accomplishment to be able to play it. Seventeen and twenty four… and they were bickering like they were nine and seventeen again.

"John, for heavens sake, give me a minute!"

"Boys, be nice!" Teresa leaned her head out from the kitchen.

"Yes ma'am!" they called back simultaneously.

They played it slower, though both made a few mistakes; Luke because he didn't remember it as well as John (although no one seemed to remember anything nearly as well as John) and John because he was used to playing it lightening quick.

"Got it?"

"Got it!"

And they got faster, and faster, and pretty soon Simon didn't know if they were playing it completely correctly, but they didn't seem to care, laughing too hard and having too much fun with it.

Teresa crept out of the kitchen with her camera, and took a quick picture, catching them mid-laugh. Good, everyone would need to be reminded of this when the pandemonium started… and Simon had a feeling that it would be going on the mantle piece after they left the house again.


	12. Chapter 12

**Authors Note: Oh my goodness, guys, I am SO SORRY that this took so long! Honestly, it was just me being pretty reluctant to write this because it hits pretty close to home for me, and I just didn't feel like writing it just yet. But it's up now and, thanks to thebookhobbit, is grammatically correct! So, this is the last one! I have another "collection" of oneshots that aren't based off of pictures, but are all my headcanons, that I'll post in the future... but I want to write all of them first, so that y'all don't end up having to wait for me like y'all did with this one! I hope you all enjoyed it!**

**Thank you, Book, for being an awesome beta!**

**There are a few people that I haven't really explained, but get mentioned here. Along with Alex and Evelyn, there are three other friends of John's: Jonathan, Taylor, and Sam. All that really needs to be explained to understand this is that Jonathan and Taylor were friends of Alex's and they met John about the same time. Sam was a freshman in high school when John, Alex, and co. were juniors. I think that's it!**

* * *

Series of pictures: John with Father Isaacs, Father Jacobs, and Sister Karla outside of the airport; John with Alex, Evelyn, Jonathan, Taylor, and Sam in the same place; and John with his family still in the same spot. John is eighteen, and a priest at this point, about to leave for Japan.

He'd been waiting for the day… and he'd been dreading it. They'd sent him to Japan, and while he was grateful for the opportunity to do the Lord's work in a country that had so few churches, he was still very nervous. He was grateful that he was leaving in the middle of winter (well, it would be summer in Japan) after Evelyn had graduated high school, so he'd gotten to see that, and had been able to spend time with her and Alex especially, but all his other friends as well. His friends, his family, all the animals at home, especially his dog Roxanne… he'd been to college away from all of them, but they'd been not more than an hour or two drive away, at most. His roommates had known Alex almost as well as they'd known John, since they'd seen each other every few weekends. But in Japan… they wouldn't exactly be easy to get a hold of.

They'd all come over to his house the day before, with Alex, Jonathan, Taylor, and Sam spending the night, and Evelyn hadn't left until late. His siblings, even Mark, who he still didn't get along with, had all driven in (if they weren't home already) to see him off. Rachel and Sarah had cried half the drive to the airport, and when he'd tried to calm them, it had only made it worse. His mother hadn't cried, exactly, but her eyes had been teary, he couldn't read Luke's expression, but the lack of a joking smile on his face made John feel like he was going to his own funeral, and even his dad was more solemn than usual… and that was hard to manage. He didn't know about Matthew, his wife Dallas, or Mark, since they were driving in Matthew's car, but when they got to the airport their faces had all been uncharacteristically grim.

They were all fine when they first got to the airport. Evelyn looked like she was holding back tears, but she hadn't noticeably been crying, and all the guys were fine, other than the fact that it didn't look like it had been a very fun drive. Sister Karla, Father Jacobs, and Father Isaacs all joined them as well, and John was glad: Father Isaacs had a way of calming the situation just by being there,

His mom, of course, had her camera, and they took pictures in front of the airport; first with Father Isaacs, Sister Karla, and Father Jacobs: Sister Karla hugged him tight, and he could feel Father Isaacs and Father Jacobs hands. No tears yet, in fact they started laughing when Sister Karla stepped on her hem and almost sent the four of them falling backwards. The next one was with Alex, Evelyn, Jonathan, Taylor, and Sam.

"Okay, hobbits in front!" John, Evelyn, and Sam were all short, and so were sometimes called "the hobbit trio" and with Jonathan, Alex, and Taylor dwarfing the three of them, it was especially appropriate. Everyone was hanging on him, but fortunately no one tripped.

Father Isaacs took the picture of John with his family, and it took a moment for all of them to figure out how to arrange themselves… they wanted John in the middle, but that wasn't the easiest arrangement to work around, at least without making Father Isaacs back up halfway into the parking garage, but they managed.

"Make sure nothing happens to this one, it's probably the best family picture we have," his dad joked, which made everyone laugh.

They were all fine, even after they got into the airport, got John's boarding pass and his bag checked, until they walked through the lobby to say goodbye before John went through airport security. Jonathan and Taylor hugged him, and looked like they were trying to keep from tearing up, Sam was trying, but failing. Promises to call, and they stepped away so that everyone else had room. Sister Karla kissed his cheek, and Father Jacobs hugged him tightly, and this time there were promises of letters, and assurances from them that he'd be fine. Sarah and Rachel were crying again, and their hugs lasted several minutes.

"You be careful," he told Rachel, hugging her tightly. She was his little sister, his only younger sibling: the one who never forgot to make him wear the crazy birthday hat, the one who wouldn't let him get away with studying all night, and the one who got him in trouble when they were trying to bathe the horses and they'd ended up throwing soap bubbles and soapy washrags at each other, and attacking each other with the hose. He was the one she came to when there were bullies at school, the first to hear about it when she finally had that cello solo down perfect, and she picked him to let her cry on his shoulder when she was having boyfriend troubles, even though she knew as well as anyone else did that it was definitely not his forte. Because she was his little sister, his only little sister, and suddenly he was scared to leave her. It was one sentence, but he knew she knew what he was thinking about.

Saying goodbye to Mark was weird. They loved each other because they were family… if they had to. They'd never gotten along, Mark usually had as little to do with him as possible, and John had been just fine with that, because while John wasn't the fighting type, there was certainly some grumbling going on if they were around each other. But now they were in the airport, and John was leaving and he didn't know when he'd be back, and they had to say _something_. Mark was clearly thinking the same thing, and for several seconds they just stood there staring at each other… Mark started to hold out his hand, and John moved to shake it, when Mark changed his mind and gave him a hug, and John hugged him back. It was a light, awkward, hug, but it counted.

"You be careful, kid," Matthew said as he ruffled John's hair and hugged him. His relationship with Matthew was weird; he'd graduated high school when John was two, and so had been out of the house for almost all of what he could remember, with John just seeing him on birthdays, Christmas, and the occasional random holidays or visits. But it wasn't a bad weird; it was just different because Matthew was so much older. John hugged him back, and then Luke was ruffling his hair and dragging him into a light headlock that had them laughing, because of his three brothers, Luke was the one that acted the most like an actual brother to him with a normal, always around, messing with each other, and Luke making John have a semblance of a social life so that his baby brother grew up "normal."

John got out of the headlock and Luke hugged him tightly, and John hugged him back.

"You better be careful," Luke said "because it'll be awfully hard to kill you if we're in different hemispheres."

"I will, I will!"

At first John wasn't sure if his dad was actually going to say anything. They hugged each other, his dad dwarfing him completely as always, and it was several moments before he hunched so that he could say something without everyone else hearing:

"I'm so proud of you, John."

John hugged him tighter: "Thank you, sir."

His dad had told him he was proud of him only once before… when he'd graduated high school. It wasn't that he was cold or anything, John had just always known that respect and praise was something to be earned from his dad; they all knew it.

His mom was hugging him as soon as his dad let go, her tears coming in full force, and their words crashed into each other, with John assuring her that he'd be fine, telling her that he missed her, that he loved her, and her telling him… pretty much the same thing, but with a lot of crying. She started to let go when her tears slowed down, and John clung tighter, the same feeling that he'd had with Rachel, the sudden terror of leaving his mom, because she was his mom, and he couldn't remember a time when she hadn't been there. She saw the look in his eyes, and kissed him, hugging him tight again. It was several moments more before he let go.

Evelyn was crying too, and John hugged her tightly, trying to calm her down and keep from crying himself. She was his first friend… for a while his only friend. There was so much he could tell her… but he was pretty sure she knew all of it. He didn't want to say anything, he didn't want to cry… he tried to speak anyway, but was too choked up to talk. What else could he do but cling to her? Suddenly he wanted to say everything that was racing through his head… but he knew that there was no way he could get all of it out, especially not in public.

Saying goodbye to Alex was just as hard, if not worse. Seeing Alex cry… because he was… was one of the few things that really made his stomach drop. Any time he'd seen Alex cry had been distinctly bad times, and he had to remind himself that going to Japan was a good thing. It was just as hard to talk now as it had been with Evelyn. His best friend… John thought he literally wouldn't have survived high school if he hadn't met Alex. Even through college, Alex hadn't been far… and now he'd be a whole ocean away. John forced himself not to cry… and to let go, because he couldn't miss his flight. But it took so much willpower to not grab his hand again as soon as he did.

And then there was Father Isaacs. He put his hand on John's shoulder, and it was suddenly easier to take a breath, to will away the tears that were threatening.

"I'll make sure they all stay safe," he told John, and John smiled.

"Thank you, father."

He looked down when he felt Father Isaacs press something into his hand. It was a rosary, a beautiful rosary.

"But this is-" it was also Father Isaacs' rosary, and one that was very, very, important to him.

"Which is why I'm giving it to you." Father Isaacs smiled, and John hugged him tight.

They urged him on, then, because they wanted him to have time to get through security and not have to rush before he had to board the plane. He watched them, and they watched him, through the line, though he had to look away when it was his turn to go through. As soon as he got out and put his shoes back on, he turned around, and waved goodbye to them, before heading into the terminal.


End file.
